Life — March 17, 1904 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Winter Resorts. HY do Ame their happy homes all seasons of the y to inbabit those abodes of melancholy known as ‘ resor ? Time was when only summer heat drove them with flaming sword—like our first parents—into the wilderness; but ans leave jt ar now there is an especial resort for every calendar month, and a man of wealth may, like the infant Pardiggle, be evenly and stolidly miserable the whole year ‘round. He may in Janu- ary enjoy on the Flori st that temperature of ninety ¢ which w York can give him only in July he may in July indulge in Canadia frosts as bitter Philadelphia furnish in Janua The great point is to be uncomfortably hot in winter, and uncomfortably cold in summer. Afilictions out of season are the covet- ed Inxury of the r To provide them has become a profit- . able industry. The ingenious hotel- keeper, trading on the nomadic in- stincts of our race, has baited his traps in every State of the Union. His methods are robust in their simplicity. SIDNEY SACHET 18 VERY REFINED. p LIMBS "—AND THINGS OF THAT KIND} SPEAKS oF PANT T's A SOCK TO MIs MIND! -LIFE- He buys a sandy tract in Georgia or the Carolinas—any place within five miles of a debilitated southern railway will answer the purpose—erccts a pastebourd hotel which in architect- ure is a happy blend of Noah's ark and the Renaissance, thoughtfally sur- rounds it with a carpenter’s shop, a forge, a poultry yard, and some dog kennels, to insure a cheerful v: y of noises, plaints a grove of se pines, lays out a garden of rose-trees, and designs a new uniform for his waitresses, He then sits down to a careful perusal of “Locksley and transfers its most glowing descriptions of the trepics—which the Laureate had never seen—into his ad- vertisements. The slush-bound New Yorker—who has forgotten Locksley Hall—mistakes this advertisement for the siren voice of nature, and joins the great American pilgrimage which is forever seeking a shrine. People who are old enough to have read“ Vathek"? when they were young may remember the hall of Eblis, wherein the damned move slowly ‘round and ‘round in a monoto- nous circle of misery, their hands forever on their hearts. Just so the winter exiles move from point to point in a monotonous circle of ennui, their hands forever in their pockets. On every brow is stamped a vacuous melancholy. When they converse, it is to compare notes on the relative dis- advantages of rival resorts. They in- quire with feverish anxiety about the rainfall week before last. ‘They carry their thermometers along with them, They express disquieting doubts con- cerning the possibilities of germs in the drinking water. They hover over fires, and talk of living in the open air. As a matter of fact, they are not liv- ing at all. In New York, even in Philadelphia and in burned-out Balti- more, men and women are living every y of their lives. Sleet overhead, snow underfoot, grime and soot on every side of them, they are at least alive, and the joy of existence is theirs. But in the pasteboard hotel, with its confusion of noises, its surrender of interests, its pretence of vivacity, life at so feeble an ebb as to be hardly worth the name, It is only its cost which makes it distinguishable from the grave. Agnes Repplier. Life’s Modern Primer. H ELLO, here is a__ bedside. Some one is in the bed, isn’t there? Yes, it is a little girl. And who is that by the bedside? Why, that is the little girl's mother. © how she smiles, She is reading a book. The book is called ‘ Science and Health, with Key to the Scrip- tures.” My, what a long name. But then the book is long. How funny it is to seo the little girl’s mother smiling and reading a book, when her little girlis so pale and wan and seems so sick. But perhaps the little girl is no: sick, Perhaps she has aclaim. You do not know what a claim is? That is because you are not a Christian Scien- tist. The little girl’s mother is Christian Scientist, and she knows whataclaim is. She is trying to cure the claim by reading the boo! Will the little girl die? Yes, the chances are that the little girl willdie. Her claim is malignant diphtheria. Bat never mind. The mother is still smil- ing, and that isa great thing. When the little girl dies she will say that it was merely a mistake. There was a hitch somewhere. Isn't it nice to sit by a bed and read such a nice book ? A Color Study. e (PHERE'S a significant difference between the Russians and the Japanese.” “ What's that?" “Well, the Russians look white and act yellow; while the Japanese look yellow and act white "" Ovr dearest friends are those who entertain us unawares, | | comicbooks.com